


Lighthouse

by Laika_the_husband (Laika_the_wife)



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bipolar Disorder, Consent Issues, Dark, Depression, Electroconvulsive Therapy, Heavy Angst, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Husbands, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lies, Love, M/M, Memories, Memory Loss, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Relationship(s), Reverse Big Bang Challenge, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 01:06:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15619062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laika_the_wife/pseuds/Laika_the_husband
Summary: I got partially inspired by the playlist, Evoke, as well. That and its title made me come up with this idea on how to handle the clearly dissolving identity depicted in Memine's incredible artwork.This breaks my heart the most out of all my fics, but this is really personal to me in many parts.The darkness is not between them, it's around them. They are in this together.I promise you Evak endgame and a happy ending. Good luck.Please let me know what you think.Also, a great big thank you for my beta, Jenn / twoenns





	1. .mov

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspiration artwork here.](https://groovyturtlefestival.tumblr.com/post/176781697855/art-by-meonlymine-lighthouse-for-skam-reverse)

He did not want to die anymore.

That was important to remember.

There had been a time when he had wanted to die, and that time was now over, and even though he couldn’t remember it, he  _ knew _ it had been.

Like so many other things.

He took his phone in his hand. He opened the video. His husband was asleep next to him so he watched it on mute, but he knew the words by heart anyhow. He read them on his own lips.  _ I don’t want to be alive anymore. I don’t know if anything can ever help.  _ Pause. A long pause. He watched the time bar advance to the point of continuing. _ This is it. The last resort, and if this doesn’t work I will have to stop. _

Another pause. A longer one. He looked himself in the eye and could not recognise the feeling he saw. He knew what it was, he identified it precisely, but he did not understand it.

_ So, Isak, if you’re watching this. I’m sorry. _


	2. Even: Light

He sat by the kitchen table, reading again all the information sheets and pamphlets he had been given before the treatment had started. Isak had highlighted in all of them everything that mentioned potential memory loss. And in the margins of each and every highlighted bit he had written with his still adorably teenage boyish handwriting IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT. Underlined. Three times.

He had no recollection of the treatments, either. Something fuzzy and blurry here and there, like how happy he had been to see Isak every time he had come to retrieve him when the anesthetic had worn off enough for him to go home. The terrible headaches afterwards, luckily not after every treatment. Or how horribly hungry he’d been every morning before going to the clinic, because he had been forbidden to eat or drink anything after midnight.

The nurse had given him a blank look when he had asked about bright lights and getting him wet. Some people were fortunate enough to not live with Isak and his taste in movies. Well, it was a classic, and if he had to choose, on Isak’s night to decide the movie, between Transformers 3 or Gremlins...it was obvious, wasn’t it?

When he had suggested they watch One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Isak had thrown the remote control at him. The fact that he was getting ECT was scary enough, he had said, without horror movies about it. He hadn’t dared tell him that, for him, it would have felt like preparing for the worst. Isak hated preparing for the worst, because then the worst was, according to him, more likely to happen.

Much good did not preparing do here, then.

IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT

I LOVE YOU

DON’T YOU EVER FORGET THAT

He ran his finger along the lines under the words. He was both relieved and fucking scared. He was horrified that he might actually forget that Isak loved him. Or that he loved Isak. He had been told over and over again, that this long after the treatment, he should not lose any more memories, but he had forgotten things that he would never have thought possible to forget. So many things. So many big things. Nothing could convince him that their love was safe from that. Safe from him.

Yet, he was happy Isak hadn’t stopped trying.

His stomach growled. He was hungry. He looked up from the papers and stared at the fridge for a moment, trying to remember what was in there. Finally, he got up and went to take a look. Maybe a quick sandwich or something, that was what he had mostly been eating for the last few months. Sandwiches and takeout.

He opened the fridge. An onion. That was not supposed to be stored in the fridge. He took it out and set it on the counter. The tomatoes were at the brink of being too ripe, so he took them as well. Garlic paste was almost out. He scavenged the fridge for things that were almost out or about to go off. He looked at the ingredients and shrugged. A pasta would be nearly as quick to make as sandwiches.

He pulled a knife out of the rack. Its weight felt familiar on his palm. He had invested in a set of proper cooking knives when they moved in together, and he was still using the same set. It was like a part of his hand. It was sharp. How many times had he taken it out in the middle of the night, and just held it there, in his hand, before finally putting it back and crawling in bed? He did not remember. He wasn’t sure if he had even once. But it matched the picture, didn’t it?

The onion was suddenly peeled. He stared at it on the table. He had peeled a million of them in his life, or at least thousands, and he did not need to think about it at all anymore. He just did it. He smelled heat in the air and looked at the stove. A pan, a pot of water, side by side, heating up. He quickly counted the steps to reach that point, six, and stared at the number in his mind for a while. He had done a six step thing without noticing it.

He wanted more.

“Hey babe, I’m home”, Isak called out from the front door. Even heard him stop in the middle of taking his shoes off. He waited. “Did you order a pizza?”

“No.”

Isak started moving again. He walked to the kitchen door and had to grab hold of the doorframe in his shock. He looked beautiful standing there, in frames. Luminescent. Isak looked at him and at the food in front of him. A frying pan with pasta and a tomato based sauce, nothing fancy. He had already eaten himself.

Isak covered his mouth with his hand. He was shaking. His legs gave in and he kind of oozed down to the floor. Isak started crying.

He didn’t know why. He tried to ask, but Isak didn’t respond. He just shook his head and cried harder. Finally he got himself up on his feet and walked to Isak, he sat down on the floor and pulled Isak into his lap. Their long legs found their places without either of them having to think about it at all, their arms embraced their bodies. Isak belonged here. He belonged here.

Isak cried for a long time. He let him. He held him against his chest and let him cry. Finally Isak had calmed down enough to speak. He whispered it on his shoulder, wet from tears.

“I ate before I came home. I’m stuffed.”

He blinked. Slowly. How was this something to cry about?

“Oh..kay?”

Isak raised his head and took his face between his hands. He looked into Isak’s green glistening eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you’d make dinner. Please forgive me?”

He didn’t understand. He just held Isak and nodded slowly. Isak saw his confusion.

“My sweet beautiful man. You cooked. You made food from scratch. It’s been over four months and it’s your Thing and. You cooked.”

Isak started to cry again. Now he understood why. He sniffled himself too.

“I did, didn’t I?”

“You did. And it smells amazing and I am so sorry I can’t eat now.”

Even smiled through his tears.

“It’s okay. You like cold pasta anyway, you animal.”

Isak laughed. He wiped his own cheeks and then Even’s.

“Yes. I do.”

Even pressed his forehead against Isak’s and closed his eyes. They sat there for a long time. Just sat there and basked in the dim light of a flicker of hope, breathing in the smell of a home-cooked meal.


	3. Even: Dark

Isak’s lips tickled at the side of his neck. His breath was hot and rushed, his touches quick and grasping, like he was in a hurry to take as much as he could before this would be taken away from him again. Even closed his eyes tight and bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself still. It’s not rape if you say yes.

No, “rape” was not the proper term, it wasn’t fair to Isak. He would never do that to him, not ever, and if he knew that word as much as crossed Even’s mind in the middle of this, he would be shocked and devastated.

It wasn’t fair to people who had actually been raped, either. But Even didn’t have any other word for this. Sure, Isak had not pressured him, he hadn’t even asked for this, this had been Even’s own idea and on his initiative, but now that he laid here on the bed, his dick hard in Isak’s hand, all he could think about was that this didn’t feel like it was supposed to.

He would not deny this from Isak because of that. He had been so good to him, so patient, he had let himself be rejected over and over and over again, up to the point where he had kind of stopped trying altogether. He’d come to bed, let Even be the little spoon and make sure he wasn’t poking him or anything, just held him, stroked him gently, lulled him to sleep. Touch. Affection. No sex. For three months straight.

He owed this much.

Isak kissed him. He kissed back. His lips knew the drill. His tongue knew what to do, how to flick at that one spot on Isak’s bottom lip that made him shake and press closer to him. To make sure Isak would be under the impression that he was as into this as he was. He had given Isak so much pain, it was about time to give him some pleasure as well. It felt horrible to be thinking like this. To be this detached from something he knew had been one of his most favourite things in the world to throw himself into. He knew, but he did not remember. His body did, his muscles did, his mouth, his skin, his fingers, arms, dick, it all remembered and everything Isak did to them felt really pleasant; but still he was calculating how much time he could buy with tonight.

Even really, really wanted to be able to get lost in this. Into Isak, his beautiful and familiar body, his sighs and gasps. His undeniable and pure joy of being here with him,  naked and kissing and touching his dick. Maybe he could, if he really tried to?

It took Even a second to notice that Isak had stopped. He opened his eyes and looked up, into the pools of green that looked almost black in the dark. He raised his eyebrow, tried to make a sound that meant a question.

“Are you okay with this?” Isak asked. Even’s heart cracked a bit. It didn’t break, but there was now a visible crack, forking out like a network of paths. So he raised his face and kissed Isak. Isak didn’t let him. He turned his face away.

“Even, I need you to tell me. Use your words.”

No.

I’m not okay with anything, so it doesn’t matter.

I want to do this for you.

I love you so fucking much.

_ I think. _

“Ride me.”

Isak hesitated. Even placed his hand firmly on his thigh and squeezed it.

“Please.”

Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.

Even managed to smile when Isak reached for the lube. Well done. But then Isak gave the lube to him and laid down on the bed on his back, legs spread and up in the air. For a second Even was confused, then he realized. Shit. Isak was not a girl. He could not just get up on the saddle and go.

Even would have to actively do things to him. Oh, the ways Isak might be able to tell his real mood. He would not let him. No. Isak would be so hurt. Even grabbed his leg and guided him, flipped him over on his hands and knees. He pressed his big hand between Isak’s shoulder blades and pushed him down, so his chest rested on the bed and his ass was up in the air. So he could not see Even.

Isak sounded pleased of this sudden display of assertiveness. Two birds with one stone. Even looked at his magnificent ass in front of him and felt. Sadness. Fear. Affection. Failure. He should be so turned on by this, and his dick was, thank god, his body was so on board with this. But his head was in a space where pleasure would not reach him. He did not feel desire. He had not wanted to have sex with his husband for months and he did not know why.

What he wanted was trumped by what Isak needed. The worst part was not being able to tell Isak about it, ever, but Even had been around long enough to know a thing or two about prices to pay. The click of the lube’s cap made Isak’s thighs get goosebumps. He was so beautiful, and Even wanted him to be happy so bad.

Even lubed up his index finger and eased it inside Isak. He took it slow because he had to. Isak felt so tight. He made these tiny little moany whimpers and his legs shook. Even felt warm. Isak’s pleasure was the thing that turned him on the most in general, and maybe he could actually enjoy this a bit. Maybe?

Two fingers. Slow pushes, slower pulls, bending just a bit at the prostate. He could do this in his sleep. He looked at the body writhing in pleasure in front of him. The body his own connected to just like that, a simple click. The body his own mass pulled towards itself, and which gave his body an equal pull. He couldn’t trust his mind. He could trust his body. He could trust Isak’s. Those shaky legs, that ass rocking back against his fingers, he could trust them and he did. He did.

He pulled his fingers out. Isak started to turn but he pressed his hands on his back again. He didn’t want to look at Isak’s face. Or him to look at his. He was already up and about, he could do this now without just having to lay still and wait for Isak to finish. He was sort of getting a bit into this as well. The smell of lube and Isak’s sweaty heat mixed together evoked memories in him, and he knew this was something good and right.

He only wished he could  _ feel _ it was good and right, too. He wanted to want this, to want Isak, so much, and yet he didn’t. It wasn’t fair. He was so sad and heartbroken and alone about it. He couldn’t tell anyone, ever, and even if he could tell someone he would not be able to tell Isak. The only person he wanted to tell.

He was stalling. He took the lube, popped the cap, squirted it on his palm and spread it on his thankfully still hard dick. The sound was sexy. It made Isak squirm and mutter something, something that sounded very pleased. When Even pressed his tip against his hole he muttered it again. Oh fuck yes, Isak whispered, and Even almost smiled. He was happy to be able to give this to him.

He pushed. It felt pleasant. Of course it did, he was fucking a gorgeous guy he liked very, very much. Who liked him. Loved him. He really hoped, that to Isak, this felt like making love. Him pushing into him over and over again, in a rhythm discovered over the years they had spent together. He was far too distracted to come but he could make Isak see stars and slip into the bathroom to wait it out.

“Fuck, babe, that feels so good”, Isak moaned. His back was sweating up, the nape at his lower back was glistening. Even kept his eyes fixed on that spot. It was so beautiful, and so faceless, it was just a part of a body and not a person with hopes and dreams he was constantly pulling down and crushing. Even stroked at the spot with his thumb. His hips were going on autopilot, thrusting against Isak, the sound of their thighs slapping together turned them both on even more. Isak was getting close.

“Touch yourself for me babe”, Even muttered. Isak did. He grabbed his dick with enthusiasm and jerked off, fast, desperate to come. Even kept going, fucking him, faster, harder, right there, there, there, until Isak came. He came loud and he came hard, and as soon as it was over Even pulled out of him and hurried into the bathroom.

He sat down on the toilet seat. He covered his mouth with his hand and closed his eyes. He leaned his temple against the wall and tried to take deep breaths and just stop shaking.


	4. Isak: Light

Isak yawned and unlocked his screen for the fifteenth time. Half past four. Everyone like him, people who had been at work until four and then set free to try and run their errands tired and hungry, were trying to do the same thing he was: pick up prescription medication at the pharmacy. Nobody wanted to be here, and none of them had any other choice. The number on the board changed and though Isak knew his turn was still ten numbers away he checked the small piece of paper in his hand.

He didn’t like waiting around. It gave him time to think. The busier he managed to keep himself, the less time he spent worrying about Even. His precious, wonderful, volatile Even. Isak had noticed signs of improvement in his state, like the other night when he had cooked dinner, and his skin still could feel the traces of their lovemaking, but still he worried. He missed Even. The one who goofed around and laughed with his whole face and made him watch long and boring art movies - no,  _ films _ \- with him.

Sometimes it was hard to hope for two people. But one of them had to, and because Even could not, Isak did. He left notes. He declared his love. He made sure Even ate something at least once a day and that he took his meds, that he always had them at home, that they had clean dishes and clothes and things like electricity, Isak kept the whole thing going and he didn’t mind it because he knew that this was just a phase. That it would pass. It always did. This time it had been worse than ever. Isak had been so scared. He’d lay in bed at night and listen to Even’s drug induced sleep and think, for the first time, that Even might not make it. The memory of those nights squeezed at Isak’s heart and he had to bite his cheek to keep himself from collapsing.

Five people more. Then he’d get Even’s meds and be out of here. He’d go home, to Even, half hoping and half fearing of what he would find there. He had made sure he was at least somewhat hungry when he came home, but Even hadn’t cooked again after that one time.

They hadn’t fucked after that one time. It was only a few days, half a week, but with everything else going on, Isak worried about that too. He hadn’t really tried to make any advances either, so some of it was on him as well, but. Even had been wonderful and sexy and still something had been off. Even had been in the bathroom for too long. Isak had almost got up and gone to ask if he was okay but then he had fallen asleep, and in the cold light of morning the subject had felt too raw to drag out. So they never talked about it.

They should have talked about it. But Even was hanging by a thread, Isak could tell, and he did not want to bring sharp objects too close.

The evening shift stepped in and the rest of the line flew past. Isak stepped to the window and provided the paperwork necessary. He zoned out while the pharmacist was typing on her computer, and she had to repeat her question to get Isak’s attention.

“Excuse me?”

“This prescription has run out, sir.”

Isak panicked very briefly. Even still had three days’ dosage left. It was a narrow window to get a new prescription, but it was doable, but what bothered him the most was that this was happening.

“It shouldn’t. I asked last time and there was one more round left.”

More typing. The lady didn’t seem pleased by this sudden delay, and Isak could feel the eyes on his back as well. He was holding people up, people like him, people who just wanted to go home.

“There was a pickup yesterday”, the pharmacist said. Isak shook his head.

“Not possible. You closed early, I was still working.”

He was getting irked. He heard the tenseness in his voice, and he felt sorry for the poor pharmacist just doing her job. He rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Look. There must have been some mix-up in your system or something. These things happen. I work in IT and the things I’ve seen --”

“The prescription was picked up by the person it is prescribed to. Sir.”

The pharmacist spoke silently and looked guilty. She had made an error that could get her in trouble, just to get Isak to shut up. It could happen to anyone. Isak wouldn’t tell on her. He had other things to think about.

“Thank you. See you next month.”

Isak left. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and then shoved it back in. This was something he wanted to discuss face to face. Isak couldn’t get home fast enough, but when he did he rushed to the bathroom. He opened the mirror cabinet. Even’s pill dosers were kept there. Both his morning and his evening meds didn’t fit into one so they had two, yellow for sunshine and day and blue for the night sky. They were both full. It was Friday and they were both untouched, all seven days.

Isak brought them to the kitchen. Even was watching some video on the tablet that was plugged into the charger on the counter. As Isak placed the dosers in front of him, he closed the case and looked up at him.

“Even.” Isak did his very best to keep his voice level and calm. There was no use in yelling at Even, not in any situation but particularly in things like this. Where he was drowning in guilt to begin with. Isak could only imagine how hard it must be to be a grown man who could not be trusted to take his pills daily.  “You need to take your meds.”

“I have?”

Isak rattled the night doser.

“These are full.”

Even rolled his eyes and took the doser from his hand. He rattled it like a maraca, making a rhythm for his words.

“I filled them up. Yesterday. I noticed the bottles were empty so I went to the pharmacy and got some more, then I filled these bad boys right up. Okay?”

Isak stared at him. He should have been angry, or defensive, or something, but he was thrilled. Overfuckingjoyed. His eyes lit up, he smiled widely, laughed a little because he couldn’t hold it back.

“You did, didn’t you? Oh my sweet wonderful man, you did.”

Isak stroked Even’s face and hair when he spoke, and Even smiled back at him. His smile was small but strong. Proud.

Isak kissed him. It was more like smiling into each other’s mouths than a proper kiss, but it felt every bit as good.

“It’s working”, Isak said. It felt scary to state it like that, to say it out loud, like he might be jinxing it. But there was now too much evidence to disregard it anymore. He held Even’s face between his hands and looked into his deep blue eyes, that for the first time in forever had a little spark in them.

“I.” Even was interrupted by a smile. “I guess it is.”

“I know it’s still early to say but. You cooked. We -- made love. And now this.”

There. There it was, a shadow on Even’s face. Isak took his hand, firmly. Anchored him. He was not going anywhere, neither of them was.

“Why did you run away from me, love?”

Even shook his head and averted his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Even. I was tired out of my mind. Totally exhausted. I. I was struggling to stay awake until the end, and you didn’t notice anything. What was keeping you so busy?”

Even looked at him. Quickly, from the corner of his eye.

“Struggling?”

“Wellll. Not exactly struggling, but I was worried I’d doze off any moment.”

Even bit the edge of his bottom lip. Isak gave his hand a squeeze. Go ahead, love.

“If you were so tired why did we --”

Isak sighed. He was embarrassed and scared. But this had started and it would have to be seen to the end.

“It had been so long. You wanted me. I was scared if I didn’t take it then I’d not get it for months again.”

He didn’t look up at Even. He was afraid to see how much he had hurt Even. All the guilt and self loathing. Hell, he was feeling the same things himself. He was Even’s husband! He was supposed to support him, in sickness and in health, and he was failing at it so hard.

Even gave his hand a strong squeeze.

It was so strong.

Isak looked at him. He was smiling. Why was Even smiling?

“Honey. We are idiots.”

Isak let out a short surprised laughter. Idiots?

“What do you mean?”

Even looked at him for a while. Really looked at him, deep into his eyes. He was still smiling, just a bit less now.

“That same night I wanted to. I don’t know. Stop? I thought I was in the mood but I was wrong, but I couldn’t let you down. You’d been waiting for so long.”

Isak frowned. It was his turn to squeeze Even’s hand, but to take support, not give it.

“So. You’re saying that while I was struggling to stay awake, you were trying to stay at it? And we both felt like shit because of it, and are telling each other just now?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Well. That does sound quite idiotic.”

“Told you.”

Even pulled Isak closer. Isak rested himself against his chest and leaned his temple on his shoulder. He loved this man so much.

“I’m sorry.”

Even stroked at the back of Isak’s neck.

“No. I’m sorry. I know sex is important in any relationship and I do like having it with you, but I’ve just been so. Down. You know how it is.”

Isak nodded. The fabric of Even’s shirt rubbed against his cheek.

“It will get better. I promise. Time is on our side, isn’t it?”

Isak nodded again. They were still young. They had the rest of their lives and. Isak stopped breathing for a second when he remembered how close Even’s life had been to ending. How fragile it still was.

Even felt it. Of course he did, he had held his body close to his for so many times and so long periods of time that he knew everything about how it operated. He gave Isak a good long hug.

“Honey. I promise you. We have decades after decades. Ahead of us.”

Isak sighed. But he nodded. Yes. He believed Even. Because if he didn’t, he couldn’t have coped.

“Yes”, he whispered. “Ahead of us.”

Neither of them mentioned the years behind them that Even had forgotten. They both knew, without saying, that they were both thinking about them, and talking about it would not have made a difference now. It was not important. This was. Him and Even, against each other, in their kitchen, looking into the future together for the first time in forever.


	5. Even: Dark

This had felt like such a great idea. A proper date. A movie, a dinner, the works. They had seen two films, one for him and one for Isak, as usual. Though he had spent most of Isak’s pick staring at his husband instead of the screen. Even had figured out the whole plot in the first twenty minutes of the movie and just taken his 3D glasses off and turned his face towards Isak. An hour and a half just flew by.

But the double feature had taken its toll. By the time they had arrived at the restaurant, Even had been feeling a bit tired. They had ordered drinks too, because this was a special occasion. He knew he had to be careful with alcohol because of his medication, but one drink was safe. Most of the time.

“A frozen strawberry margarita must be one of the least manly drinks known to man”, Isak said, taking a sip through his straw. It pierced a whole strawberry.

“Mmhm.” Even nodded. He pushed his tongue out and caught a small pile of the slush from his glass on it. It made Isak giggle, as it was supposed to. “I kinda feel sorry for all the guys too fragile to order one. These things are fucking amazing.”

“Agreed.” Isak fished the strawberry into his mouth and munched it up. Even followed suit. The berry was pretty, plump and red. It didn’t taste like anything. The margarita was excellent, but it got Even’s head buzzing in a dull, suffocating note.

The waiter brought them the menus. Even opened his. Isak chuckled in disbelief.

“In french. How pretentious can a restaurant be?”

Even stared at the words he knew he understood. It was food french. Half of the things were the same in every language, either exactly or just slightly variated. The cursive font made it harder to read and the sheer number of items on the menu felt suddenly overwhelming. Even squeezed at the leather covers in his hands to keep them from shaking.

It was so lonely. Isak was just there, across a table that was clad in a white pristine table cloth, set with an array of forks and glasses, and Even was all alone in this. He knew Isak couldn’t read the menu at all and he would have to help him navigate through that, and usually he didn’t have to even think about it, but now, for some reason, he knew he would fuck up. He’d order Isak something with truffles - what the fuck was truffles in french anyway? - or artichoke or something and they’d pay an arm and leg for something Isak would hate eating.

He could just order him a steak, red wine sauce and garlic potatoes. But this was a fancy place and the waiter had been stuffy enough already. Must have been the margaritas. Suddenly, Even was so self conscious. Everyone in the dining room was watching him. Not looking directly at him but keeping an eye on him, glancing quickly every now and then, silently judging.

Isak would notice any second now. This was their big date night, something they hadn’t done in a long time, a celebration of their love and relationship and he was on the brink of fucking it up completely. He had to pull himself together. Had to. Had. To.

“Excuse me”, Even mumbled and put the menu down. He got up off his chair and hurried to the bathroom. He opened the stall’s door and was extremely relieved to lock it behind him. Fuck. Shit. Calm down, you fucking idiot.

The bathroom smelled pleasant. The lighting was carefully planned to be bright but easy on the eye. The music was subtle, barely there. The stall was on the roomier side, as well. As Even sat on the toilet seat lid, his knees were far from touching the door. He spent  a long while just looking at them. His knees. His long thighs. They looked skinny and awkward, and that suited his mood perfectly. He felt like a fucking teenager again.

Okay, sans the self destruction.

He needed to calm down. Reminiscing on his teenage days and accelerating downward spiraling was not a good way to do that. He needed something to do, so he wouldn’t have to think so much. So he pulled out his phone and opened one of the various games he had downloaded on it. All of them were variations of the same theme: match three or more gems, fruit, candies, animals, whatever. He eventually got stuck on every one of them and then just downloaded another one.

After four rounds, he was feeling significantly better. His hands didn’t want to shake anymore. His heart was beating steadily and calmly. The bathroom door kept opening and closing, just like the doors in the vacant booths, but in his own little hiding place Even was alone in a safe way. Like in a nest. He knew he’d have to get out eventually. He’d use up the rest of his lives and then he’d go. He only had two left anyway, that shouldn’t take too long.

Fifteen minutes later Even put his phone away and stood up. He took a deep breath. He unlocked the door. He stepped out and went to wash his hands out of habit. He skipped the soap because it dried up his hands and he hadn’t actually done any bathroom business in there. As he turned to grab a paper towel he saw Isak standing there, washing his hands.

Shit, how long had he been in here?

Even was too startled to say anything. Isak didn’t say anything either, he just closed the tap and grabbed a paper towel. He turned his head to look at Even, and there was a hint of a smile in his eyes. He was up to something. He had a plan, a mission, Even knew that look. Isak was pleased with his future self.

Isak grabbed another paper towel. And another. And another. He just kept pulling them out of the dispenser, one after the other, not breaking eye contact with him once. Even stood there, his hands dripping water, and stared at him. At the expectation in his eyes. Even was supposed to do something. He was supposed to play his part in the scene, to complete the plan, and he had absolutely no idea what it was. Why would Isak need so many paper towels? To stuff under his knees on the bathroom floor? No, that was something he might have done, not Isak. He was the slutty and irresponsible one.

What would happen when the dispenser ran out of paper?

With each paper towel Isak’s face dimmed out just the tiniest bit. He really needed Even to do something. Say something. This was one of those moments where the other party of a couple was supposed to recognise something that was in common, something that was just theirs, and that only the two of them would understand.

Fuck. This was a  _ memory. _

The word knocked the air out of Even. He was seeing black spots and bright dots at the same time. Isak saw it on his face. He stopped, his hand absolutely full of paper. It was like some makeshift pom-pom, only a disastrous one. He looked at Even and he was so. Disappointed. And sad. And ashamed, and that was the worst.

“Isak I --” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence. He didn’t know how to speak at all.

Isak shoved the paper towels in the trash. He took one more out and handed it over to Even. He dried his hands with it and threw it out.

“After you’d been in here for twenty minutes, I paid for the drinks. If you want to go home, we can just leave.”

“How long have I been in here?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s okay.”

“Isak. Tell me. How long?”

Isak sighed. He took his phone out and checked the time.

“A bit over an hour now.”

“Fuck!” Even was mortified. This was their date night. And he had ditched Isak for over an hour, just like that, in the middle of a full dining room of stuck up people in a fancy restaurant. How embarrassing that must have been for Isak.

“It’s okay. I’m pretty sure all of the people who saw you come here have left by now. We can just walk out the door and go home.” Isak’s stomach made a loud growling sound. “Maybe stop to get pizza on the way?”

Even wanted to say so many things. He wanted to tell Isak how sorry he was. To tell him why he had come here to hide. He wanted to ask him what was the deal with the paper towels, and to apologize over and over and over again for forgetting about them in the first place. All these things to say swirled around inside him, struggling to get to the surface of the greenish black goo that was his essence, but none of them made it. They all drowned.

“Okay.”

Isak took his hand. He wanted to pull it away. Not because he didn’t want to hold Isak’s hand, because that was all he ever fucking wanted, but because he was so, so not worthy. He had fucked up. Majorly. But Isak held his hand anyway, and gave it a gentle squeeze, and walked him out of the bathroom and the restaurant. It was hard, but Even managed to not start crying. Barely.


	6. Isak: Light

Isak was sitting by the kitchen table, eating his breakfast. It was almost time to leave for work, but he still had about half an hour of me-time. He was not a morning person, but he had grown to appreciate these silent lonely moments while Even was still asleep. He had time to think, or not think. About Even, of course. He had made his breakfast ready in the fridge for him, and now he was twirling a pen in his fingers, trying to figure out what to write on the note this time. Variety was important.

Like all valuable things, Isak’s marriage required work. Sure, there was all the infrastructure of running a household, but there was more to it than chores. There was the daily labour of little things, so small and so routine, that Isak did most of them without even thinking about it by now.

A touch at the back of Even’s neck when he passed him on his way to get water.

Asking if Even wanted anything from the kitchen while he was going there.

Saying “yes” every time Even asked for a hand. “Thank you” whenever possible. “I love you” whenever, possible or not.

Telling Even how hot he was.

Letting Even know how much Isak liked him and his company, and how much he preferred him to anything and anyone else.

Small things. Constant things. But they did take effort, and Isak was happy to deliver. Even needed extra work and care to understand that he was worthy, and getting him to realize that was sometimes a full time job, but it was also Isak’s favourite pastime in the world.

If there was something Isak could be commended for, it was perseverance. He was all for lasting marriages and he was not going to let this one go easily. Or hard. Or, like, at all. He had chosen Even and he was not going anywhere. So he got up every morning with a crystal clear goal in his mind: keep him alive. Keep him around. Make him happier. Do whatever you can.

Minute by minute.

Going to work was hell some days. The thought that he had to leave Even home alone for nine hours was scary. With a kitchen full of knives, a mirror cabinet full of meds, a cleaning closet full of chemicals. A bed full of pillows, a length of rope in the bedroom closet. Belts. Screwdrivers. Wine bottles just waiting to be smashed into shards with sharp edges. If Isak wanted to keep Even alive he could not go about it by eliminating possible methods, because if Even wanted to, he could just leave the apartment and get hit by a car. Or walk to the tracks. Cross half of a bridge.

What needed to be eliminated was Even’s desire to end it all. That was a trickier one. He had dragged Even to a therapist over and over again, and when it worked it helped, but then another episode would come and he’d stop going because he didn’t feel like it anymore. Then the next depressive stage Even had so much baggage from the previous spiral that he never got to the roots of his problems. Every therapy round started over and just as it was getting somewhere Even would stop, for whatever reason.

Last time it had been money. Isak’s computer had died and Even had needed four rounds of root canal, he couldn’t work overtime and all had just added up until there had been no other choice but stop Even’s therapy. Isak had done everything in his power to stop that from happening, but when Even had told him money was all he ever talked about there anyway, he had agreed to let him quit.

He should get going. Isak uncapped the pen and wrote the note, that he loved Even and that he would stop by the store to get supplies for ice cream sundaes. A heart at the bottom. He stuck the note on the fridge door with a small magnet of the Eiffel Tower. They had been to Paris for their three day honeymoon. It had been magical and perfect, three days wasn’t long enough for them to see anything but the best the city had to offer. He would have to look into flights and hotels on his lunch break. He would take his man to Paris. Or London. Milan. Somewhere, anywhere, away from it all for a moment.

Now it was time for him to take himself to work. Isak grabbed his bag, his keys and his phone and left as quietly as he could. Even wouldn’t wake up if he made more noise, but it didn’t feel right to cause a racket when your husband was sleeping. It wasn’t normal, and acting normal when Even wasn’t present was something Isak liked to do. He would never switch places with anyone normal if it meant not taking Even with him, but when it was just him it gave him a little break. Like a quick game of solitaire between business calls.

Love was a choice one made over and over again. Post-it note by note, sandwich by sandwich, touch by kiss by resting your head in his lap while falling asleep to a black and white movie. Minute by minute.


	7. Even: Dark

It took Even a while to figure out what had woken him up. He had sort of noticed when Isak had left for work and then dozed off immediately again. Now something had interrupted that slumber. An electronic sound. He fumbled for the alarm clock and slammed at the snooze button but it did nothing. He fished the clock in his hand and flicked the small switch behind it, but it was already in the “off” position. The sound persisted.

What the hell was making that noise? Even grunted and rubbed his eyes. His eyelashes had been stuck together by some crusty gunk. His head was groggy as well. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep and he had gotten up and taken an extra sedative. He had his doctor’s permission to do that because lack of sleep was more dangerous to him in the long run. But if he woke up too early from that he was always a bit disoriented.

The noise was somewhat familiar, like something he heard often but not all the time. He yawned and rubbed his eyes again. He opened them and stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t the source, unsurprisingly. Even managed to triangulate it to the kitchen. One night the battery of the kitchen timer had leaked and the whole thing had gone mental, beeping like crazy. This sound was not a beeping one. It was like a tune. Tonal.

A ringtone.

It wasn’t his. That was why he hadn’t recognised it earlier. It was Isak’s. Had he forgotten his phone at home? Why was it still ringing? Before Even could figure that out, the sound stopped. He barely had sighed relieved when the noise started again. And again. The phone kept ringing nonstop, and finally Even just dragged his feet on the floor and sat up. He pushed himself up with his legs and staggered into the kitchen. They charged their phones there because the outlet supposedly had some safety feature to stop them from catching fire or something.

When he got to the phone he saw his own name on the screen. That didn’t help with his confusion at all. He was here. Was he calling himself? Future Even? Or a past one, perhaps? No, he would have remembered calling his future self -- or  _ would  _ he?

Of course not. He was being silly. As the ringtone blasted the last bits of sleep away from his brain he connected the dots, finally. This was Isak’s phone. Isak wasn’t home, and Even’s phone was nowhere to be seen, so logically Isak was calling into his own number with Even’s phone, which he had grabbed by mistake and.

Oh god no.

Oh no no no no no no no.

He couldn’t sleep last night.

The phone kept ringing. Its sound pierced Even’s skull and made his teeth hurt. He turned the whole thing off just to make it shut up. It got so silent all of a sudden. The kitchen was quiet. Not even the fridge was running at that moment, none of the neighbours used their sink or dishwashers, it was so. So. Quiet.

Even walked to the cabinet where they kept his sedatives. They stored them separately because he didn’t take them regularly, and with this many pills it was easy to get them mixed up. He found the brown glass bottle and took it out. His hands were shaking so much that he dropped the whole thing. It hit the edge of the counter and shattered into a rain of white circles and brown sharp shards. A couple of pills landed on the counter. Even took them and swallowed them dry, and crawled under a pile of blankets on the couch. He needed to rest. He closed his eyes tightly and hugged his long legs and rocked himself back and forth until the blackness took him over.

Even was shaking. Really hard. Weirdly hard, it was like he was a rag doll between a dog’s teeth. His wrist hit his head and the impact made both bones hurt a bit. Through the tremors he heard a sound.

No. A voice.

Someone was yelling. Even tried to open his eyes but he was disoriented and unwilling. His head was shaken out of its hiding place and the hurting light made him want to open his eyes even less. Then something made a loud sound and set his cheek on fire. Another sound, another cheek. The yelling got louder. Closer by.

“-- did you take?”

It was Isak. Isak’s voice. He sounded like he needed help. He was scared. He needed Even. But before Even could force himself into opening his eyes the fire returned. Left cheek. Right cheek. His head was spinning.

“How many!”

“Isak..” Even managed to mumble. He tried to reach out his hand but it was tangled in the blankets. Isak needed him. He had to wake up. He had to.

Something squished his face. Isak’s hands. Even could hear him clearer now, he was speaking so close to his face.

“Tell me. Wake up. I need to know. They want to know.”

They? They who? What did they want to know? What was it that Isak asked him earlier? How many? Even heard a wailing noise in the distance, coming closer. Sirens.

Oh god no, no. No. What had he done?

He opened his eyes again. He tried to focus on something, on anything, but it was so hard. He was so slow.

“Even! Look at me!”

Isak was panicking. His voice was a shriek, tense and stretched out thin. Even wanted to hug him, to hold and comfort him, make him understand everything was okay. He was just tired and the sirens became louder and louder. He really wished Isak would stop slapping his face. He made a groan and tried to get his hand free, to hold Isak’s hand or something.

Anything.

Someone was ringing the doorbell. Isak said something and disappeared. Even tried to call after him, to ask him not to go, he tried to get up and go after him but tripped over the blankets and his legs. He kind of noticed hitting the floor, but then everything went black again.


	8. Even: Dark

Even opened his eyes slowly. His throat was really sore and his head felt heavy once again. His heart felt heavier and he was about to find out why soon. He felt the familiar weight settled down on his chest as his thoughts gathered back to his mind from the lavender cloud they had been floating in.

“Even?”

Isak’s voice did the trick. It made it all come crashing down on him. His phone. The video. The pill bottle he had dropped and broken, the pills he had swallowed. How he had tried and tried but couldn’t wake up for Isak. Had he really tried to kill himself? It must have looked like that to Isak, and Even had no idea how he could even start to explain this to him.

“I’m sorry”, he said, his voice cracking. He brought his hand to his face and saw the tubes and needles attached to it. He was in a hospital. Yes. The sirens. Someone somewhere might have needed that ambulance for something real and it had been driving his sorry ass around the city for nothing. Four pills, two in the night and two in the morning. Not nearly enough to kill him.

Isak’s face was killing him, though. Even peeked at it through his fingers and it was. Isak was so upset. In every possible way, he was angry and sad and disappointed and worried and ashamed. Scared.

“I’m sorry”, Even said again. He meant to say it louder but he was quieter. Near a whisper. Isak didn’t say anything. He just sat there and looked at him and Even knew, he knew his husband and he knew that right now he was swallowing so many nasty words. Maybe he knew that Even was saying them to himself daily. Over and over again.

“Isak. I need you to say something. Anything.”

“Fuck you”, Isak said. His voice was barely audible but Even heard him perfectly. Isak stole his pillow and hit him with it. “How fucking dare you!”

It was possible to scream in a whisper.

Even’s ears were ringing.

“I don’t --” He didn’t. He wasn’t. He couldn’t. “I’m sorry.”

Even knew he needed to explain. He needed to tell Isak that it had been an accident, that he had just been sleeping badly lately, that he just wanted to sleep so he took a pill last night and when he woke up in the wee hours he had taken another one, that when he had realized that Isak had seen the video he was never supposed to see he had just panicked and been crushed by shame and he had taken two pills just to sleep it out. Isak would understand. Tell him. Say it. Tell him. Tell him. Isak will yell at you and then hug you and take you home and next week you both will be laughing about the whole stupid thing. Just tell him.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it! Fuck! You promised you’d never leave me. It was in our oaths!” God, Isak was so hurt. Even had hurt the one thing that really mattered to him. The only person he wanted to hurt so little that he had sworn he wouldn’t in front of everyone he knew.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“No. Oh hell no. No. Own it.”

Isak was crying, and was mad about it but couldn’t help it. All the angry wiping in the world wasn’t enough to make him stop once he had started. Even tried to take his hand but he didn’t let him.

“Isak I really didn’t --”

“Own. It. I’ve let you get away with too much and I’m not letting that be the death of you.”

Even really, really wanted to hold Isak’s hand. He could explain later, couldn’t he?

“Okay”, he said, bowing his head. “I really am sorry.”

They both were very quiet for a long time.

Isak took Even’s hand.

“I’d ask you to promise me you would never do this again but you promised me once already.”

Even squeezed tighter. He wanted to promise anyway, but he remembered what he had seen in his eyes on the video, that unfamiliar but undeniable dark pain. He knew what he was capable of. And if he couldn’t convince himself, he’d never convince the man who knew him better than he did.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Isak told him. About how he had let the paramedics in, how they hadn’t been able to get Even to wake up and then rushed him to the hospital. Even’s stomach had been pumped and he had been put on an IV because he had been dehydrated and his potassium levels had been too low. Isak didn’t say it out loud but Even knew he was upset about that too, about their collective failure to keep him hydrated and his diet healthy enough.

“I love you”, Even whispered.

“Yeah,” Isak sighed. “Good.”


	9. Isak: Dark

Isak leaned his temple against the cool glass of the tram’s window. It helped him focus and collect himself and his thoughts. He had to do that before he went home to Even.

So he rode an extra round on the tram.

“Hi, I’m Isak. I’m a he and umm. I’m here because. My husband tried to kill himself last week.”

The counselor had started the group therapy session by asking everyone to tell their preferred name, their pronouns and why they had come. Isak had no idea what the others had said. Before his turn, he had been busy being scared about having to say it out loud and after doing so, he had just heard his own voice repeat it in his head over and over again.

His husband tried to kill himself last week.

It was not easy to admit he had failed so badly.

But it had happened. Isak had lowered his guard, drunk off the hope the ECT had kindled. He had been focused on making Even remember and he had completely missed how Even was feeling right now, in the present.

Shit, Isak felt like an idiot. The paper towels had been a fiasco. He had tried making Even grilled cheese with everything in the spice cabinet but Even had just gagged and thrown the sandwiches away. He couldn’t convince Even to dive into a pool with their clothes on. Even had been super confused about him playing a Christmas song in August - he had not only forgotten the things that had happened to him, but also the things Isak had told him about and that was so, so hard. Isak wasn’t much of a talker to begin with, but when he did tell Even about his feelings and such, he had put a lot of consideration into his words to make them perfect. Something that Even seemed to pull off without thinking about it.

It was hard to be as amazing as Even was in his good moments.

On the rare moments they had had the courage to talk about things that weren’t something common to them but things that made them different from each other - real things, not something like who was a morning person - Even had tried to convince Isak over and over again, that he did not want a _ mazing _ in the sense he was himself, in Isak’s eyes. That he wanted Isak-amazing, the grumpy loving care.

Loving Even wasn’t hard. And he had still failed.

Even had it so bad that he tried to end his life, and his husband was busy feeling sorry for himself.

In sickness and in health. Fuck!

Did anyone really know what it meant when they said that? Had Isak known himself?

His stop was approaching again. He didn’t want to go home. It made him sick to his stomach. But the thought of not going made him feel worse, and he was sure Elias had other places to be as well. He should get home to his family, and Isak should get home to his. He pressed the button, grabbed the bar and yanked himself up on his feet. Time to go.

Isak stopped on his tracks when he opened the apartment door and saw a pair of tiny white sandals on the floor. Elias had brought Nadia with him. To watch Even. The wonderful, volatile Even. Who brings a three-year-old to suicide watch with them?

Nobody seemed to notice he had arrived. Isak heard laughter from the living room. A sound that was so out of place in this home that it made his stomach curl up into a tight little ball. Even was laughing. He sounded happy. It felt wrong and it felt scary, because if Even was suicidal one day and happy a week later that usually meant he was altering between episodes in a rapid pace and that, that was the worst for both of them.

Okay. Isak couldn’t stay here forever. He had to go inside. Close the door, take his shoes off and go to the living room. So he did. First the door, quietly. Then the shoes, and then he half sneaked further into the apartment. He peeked carefully in through the living room door.

Elias was standing by the white back wall, holding Nadia in his arms. The girl’s hair was full of braids, glitter and feathers, and her makeup looked like it was done by a toddler. Even was taking pictures of them with his phone, directing them like it was a real photoshoot. Isak saw him from behind and noticed right away that his hair was obviously done by Nadia. Multiple ponytails standing straight up from his scalp, an array of hairclips and everything topped off with a pink tiara. He looked ridiculous. And happy.

It felt like something had got caught in Isak’s throat. Even looked so happy. He looked like he belonged in this scene, playing with a toddler and her daddy and though Isak had made his peace with it years ago, sometimes the pain remembered being there and stabbed his heart in the back. Even would never have this with him. This picture come to life, a picture of a family.

Isak just didn’t want to have children. He had tried to consider it, really consider it, but he could not make himself want them. Even was okay with it, but Isak knew that he would have loved to have kids too. Despite his condition. How Even could think that bringing a child into this environment would be a good idea, Isak didn’t know. Maybe his reluctance was saving a kid somewhere from years of therapy.

And denying a good man of becoming a great father.

It was painfully obvious that interacting with children made Even happy. He lit up, he was shining bright and steady. Isak had basked in that light himself, years ago, and occasionally still, but these days that light had started to flicker shorter and shorter. Or turn dimmer, like a raging fire turns into glowing embers. It was a different kind of light, and everything looked different in it.

“Issy!” Nadia had seen him. She reached out both of her hands and Isak really hoped the look he had pulled on his face was a smile. Even turned to look at the door and Isak was blinded by his smile.

“Hey you!” Even came to him and gave him a kiss. “I was starting to wonder what’s taking you so long.”

Elias carried Nadia to them as well. Her kiss on Isak’s cheek was wet and left a stain of lipstick. She smelled like cotton candy and fabric softener.

“Hi, baby girl”, Isak said. And nodded at Elias too. “Daddy E. Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s cool”, Elias said and put the squirming girl down. “The missus is working late as well. We’re getting pizza on our way home.”

“I love pizza!” Nadia exclaimed. Isak nodded. Actually, pizza sounded kind of good. Easy and simple. He needed something like that tonight.

“There’s a good place down the street. If I buy you ice cream for dessert, would you bring us a pizza too?”

“I love ice cream!”

Elias smiled and nodded.

“Now I have no other choice. Clever, Mister Valtersen.”

Isak looked at Even’s hair. Good, a diversion.

“Nadia sweetie, could you take your things off Even’s hair?”

Even grabbed the girl from under her arms and carried her to sit on the couch. He sat down on the floor in front of her so she could reach his hair. Isak raised his brow at Elias and Elias nodded. Followed Isak into the kitchen.

“How was the day?” Isak asked quietly, keeping his voice soft and low.

“First we watched the Lion King. Even knows all the lines by heart, did you know that?”

Isak laughed, shortly.

“Yeah. I know that. But then again, who doesn’t?”

“Well I don’t. Nadia loved it when Even performed the scenes with the movie. Then we made lunch and while Nadia took a nap we just talked about things.”

Isak leaned a bit closer.

“What things?”

Elias shrugged.

“Just. Things. Nothing in particular and nothing about um. His condition.”

Isak nodded.

“I was a bit worried when I saw you brought Nadia with you.”

“Our sitter canceled, I had no other choice. But if you ask me, Even seemed okay. Maybe he’s pretending for Nadia but he’s been all laughs and giggles all day.”

Isak sighed. He knew he was supposed to be happy for Even, that his day had been good, but he was so jealous. His day had been shit. He had missed all of Even’s light, and what if it had now run out and the moment Nadia and Elias left it would turn off and leave Isak in the dark again?

“Doesn’t that worry you? I mean, he was trying to --” Isak pursed his lips. Nadia could hear him. “You know, the thing that happened. And now, a week later, he’s. Happy?”

“Has he been unusually happy a lot lately?”

Isak shook his head. No. Even hadn’t. They had not been unusually happy, or happy at all, to the point where Isak had joined a group therapy session just to spill out his resentment before he’d pour it on Even. His husband had vowed to love him forever and tried to leave him.

Isak wasn’t sure if he could forgive him for that.

The thought hit him behind the knees. He had to grab Elias from the shoulders just so he wouldn’t fall on the floor. He was shaking. Elias wrapped his arms around him and gave him a long hug.

“Hey, Issy. It’s okay to be mad. When he tried it the first time we were so. Upset.”

“How did you do it?” Isak was weak. He was caught off guard. He had talked too much about this today to stop talking now. “How did you forgive him?”

Elias shrugged.

“He disappeared from us. By the time we got him back we were just happy to have him with us again.”

Isak laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound.

“I’m so fucking scared.”

“Daddy, I’m done!” Nadia yelled from the living room, probably prompted by Even. Bless him. Elias gave Isak a concerned look.

“You know my phone is on 24/7, right? Whenever you need me, just send a message or call me.”

Isak nodded.

“Yeah. Sure. I’m just hungry and tired, I’ll be better when I’ve eaten something.”

“Daddyyyyyyy!”

Elias flashed Isak a sheepish smile.

“I live with two girls. I’m so whipped.”

Isak managed to force a chuckle out.

“You’d better get going then. I’ll give you some cash for the pizza. Number fourteen, please.”

Elias took his daughter and her pink Frozen themed purse with him. The door closed and Isak held his breath. He didn’t dare look at Even. He didn’t want to see the light go out.

Even stepped close to him. He approached him straight on, all of him open, radiating. Like he had been before. A part of Isak wanted to push him away but he couldn’t. He needed the light. He needed Even so much he could barely take it.

Even kissed him. Isak kissed him back, his lips fluttering a bit. He should tell Even where he was, but he didn’t want to. Even’s reaction might taint it and ruin it for him and he needed it now. Or, even worse, it might make Even sad again. It was better to keep it a secret for now. Just for now.

“Listen”, Even said. He was near whispering, playing with Isak’s hair. “I think I don’t need anyone coming over tomorrow.”

Isak shook his head. Hell no.

“It’s been a week, Even. I can’t trust you, I just can’t, and I’m not letting it happen again.”

“That’s exactly what I mean”, Even said. He kept looking away and forcing his eyes back on Isak. “It can’t happen again because it didn’t happen in the first place.”

Isak blinked. Slowly. He heard what Even said but somehow he was pretty sure he had forgotten what words mean. Because Even wasn’t making any sense.

“What?”

“It was an accident. I took four pills hours apart and that’s all there is to it.”

“No.” Isak shook his head. Even was lying. Why was he lying? Even grabbed his hands. He wanted to keep him here for this conversation. Isak allowed it. For now.

“Yes. I swear. Four, between going to bed and when you came home. Four.”

Even held four fingers out in front of Isak’s face. Isak shook his head again.

“No. You were in an ambulance. You had your stomach pumped.”

“Unnecessarily.”

“Even that’s not true.”

“It is.”

Isak pulled his hands away and stepped back.

“No. That can’t be true because you’re not that big of a dick that you’d let me think you tried to kill yourself. For a week.”

The last glimmer of light disappeared from Even’s eyes. They were left in the dark again.

“That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to tell you sooner. You were so mad at me and I tried to explain but you didn’t listen and. I chickened out. I’m a coward.”

Isak shook his head again. Nope. Even was lying. Isak didn’t know why but he was, obviously and blatantly, and Isak could prove it.

“I saw your suicide note that morning. The video.”

Even closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

“It wasn’t a suicide note.”

“ _ I don’t want to be alive anymore. _ Your words.  _ Isak, I’m sorry. _ Also yours.”

Isak didn’t like the way his voice was starting to sound. Shrieked.

Even took out his phone.

“Let me show you. I--” Even stared at his screen. “Isak. Did you delete the video?”

“Of course I did! I couldn’t let you have  _ that _ around giving you ideas!”

The way Even looked at him made Isak stop yelling before he had really started. He looked like someone just kicked him. Someone he loved and trusted.

“I made that  _ for me _ Isak. Before the ECT. They told me I might lose my memory and I wanted to remember why I was taking the risk.”

“Liar! It was right there on your phone! I opened it to call my phone to let you know about the mix up and there it was!” Yes. Isak was definitely shrieking now. He sounded like his fucking mother.

Isak’s phone rang. He grabbed it and looked who it was. Elias.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, so we’re back. You might want to take it down a notch, we can hear you from the front door.”

“Fuck! Sorry!”

“Just because I have company, you know?”

“Yes. Of course. You come on up, we’ll keep it cool.”

The phone call ended. Isak turned back to Even and saw him putting his shoes on.

“Even?”

“I’m spending the night at Elias. If they won’t have me I’m going to Mikael’s.”

Now it was Isak’s turn to look like someone kicked him. Even was leaving. He was mad at him and leaving and.

“Even please.”

The shriek was gone. It was barely a whisper. A cry for help. Please Even, don’t go.

“I’ll come back tomorrow. When you come home from work I’ll be here. I promise. I just need some space right now.”

Before Isak could protest, Elias knocked on the door. Even opened it, took the pizza, pushed it in Isak’s hands and slipped out the door. He heard them walk away, Nadia making enthusiastic little squeals. Isak stood behind the door with the hot pizza burning his fingers and barely noticing it.


	10. Even: Light

Even checked the time once again. Isak should have been home from work by now. He hadn’t sent Even any messages to tell him he would be late, or going somewhere, or, the worst, not coming home at all. Even had spent one night away from Isak and he missed him terribly already. He was willing to forgive and forget anything, if Isak just came home.

The door opened. Keys rattled. Even walked to meet his husband and when he saw him his heart felt like bursting. Isak looked so scared. His calm, caring, strong Isak was terrified to come home. His home. Their home.

“I didn’t dare make sure you’re here”, Isak said quietly. “If you weren’t, I. I don’t know what I’d done then.”

“I’m here. I’ll always be here, Isak, always.”

He could only hope Isak would believe him. After all those lies, how could he?

Maybe because of love? Perhaps?

Please?

Even stepped closer. Timidly.

“Come here. Please.”

Isak did. He came to Even in tiny little steps and then they hugged each other so tight that they could barely breathe. It felt like coming home, the hug. Like fitting into his place, seamlessly, like it was created just for him.

“I missed you so much”, Even whispered. Isak hugged him tighter to mask his shaking. “Isak, talk to me.”

“I was so scared”, Isak sniffled. “When I saw the video and you didn’t pick up. I was sure I’d find you in a pool of blood or hanging above the floor and I was dying the whole time until you finally came to at the hospital.”

“That’s a long time to die. I’m so sorry. I realized you’d seen the video and I was just so ashamed. I couldn’t cope. You know how it is.”

“I know.” Isak rubbed his tears into Even’s shirt. He had stopped shaking. “You must promise me you will never die.”

Even sighed softly. Oh, Isak.

“I can’t promise you that. We can get a nuclear bomb dropped on our heads tomorrow, you know?”

Isak was listening. He was listening carefully. Even stroked his back lightly, between his shoulder blades.

“I suggest that you just screw talking about the future, and then the two of us will just take this thing completely chill.”

“Even --” Isak’s whisper faded away after that one word. But that word was loaded with hope. A question he was afraid to ask.

“Let’s play a game”, Even said, slowly and calm. He was uncertain about many things, including the future, but this he was certain of. “It’s called ‘Isak and Even minute by minute’. It’s about that the only thing we need to worry about is the next minute.”

Isak was crying again. He wasn’t shaking anymore but he was sniffling, and clinging onto Even’s shirt. Pressing his body closer to his. Even could almost see the fear and worry and regret leave his body, making room for something else.

Relief.

Even slipped his fingers under Isak’s jawline and raised his face gently. He looked him in the eye.

“You up for it?”

Isak laughed the smallest, happiest little laughter. Then he nodded.

“What should we do this minute, then?” Isak asked. Even smiled. There it was. The connection. Their souls entwined again and became one. He had forgotten so many things, but this, this he had remembered last night on the couch of the Bakkoush household. Isak needed him to know his lines and for once he did.

“This minute we’ll kiss.”

“That’s chill.”

“So fucking chill.”

They closed their eyes. They moved their heads slightly. They kissed.

One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes.

Even leaned his forehead against Isak’s.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the translation for the Minutt för minutt speech from here: https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x5hjy3u


End file.
